


Side-Effects of the Hero.

by larkofchaos



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan
Genre: Annabeth Chase/Percy Jackson Fluff, Other, Percy Jackson Needs a Hug, Percy Jackson is a Mess, Sally Jackson is a Good Parent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-31
Updated: 2020-03-31
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:28:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23417470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/larkofchaos/pseuds/larkofchaos
Summary: Percy had always known he was neuro-divergent, but since his adventures in saving the world from evil beasts and immortal beings, his mental health has only declined.He's been doing well since the fall of Gaea, but the weight of even causing that much damage weighs on his shoulders, leaving him in harsh nights. Nights like this one.
Relationships: Annabeth Chase/Percy Jackson, Percy Jackson & Sally Jackson
Comments: 2
Kudos: 111





	Side-Effects of the Hero.

**Author's Note:**

> CW; Panic attacks, hurt/comfort, PTSD, mentions of previous abuse.
> 
> This work takes place roughly three months after the events after Blood of Olympus and before the events in Trials of Apollo

The wind howled in Percy's window, making his hands tremble and bones shake. He _knew_ he was safe, he _knew_ nothing could get into his small New York apartment, but knowing it and feeling it were two very different entities when you'd seen as much as Percy has. At this point, he doesn't know when the trauma started, he just knows he wants it to _stop._ He wants to be able to walk down the street without a hand in his pocket gripping onto Riptide like a lifeline, he wanted to not have to need Riptide to feel safe. He wanted...

He wanted to be normal. 

Selfish, he knows. That's a selfish thought. Though, it still lurked in his mind. What if he had lived a peaceful, god-free life with his mother in their little New York apartment? Imagine how _happy_ he would be. 

Another crackle from the window had his hands tightening in his sheets, drawing his head back like a dagger had been at his chin. He knew that feeling all to well. What if a monster broke in in this moment? What would he do? Would he be able to keep them all safe? He doubted it, everywhere he went he brought destruction. It was his names sake. _Perseus._ The destroyer. He was meant to be this. Meant to be a destructive monster. Even his own girlfriend thought so, his own father. He beat the odds, lived past sixteen. 

His right arm raised to cover his eyes. He hoped to quell that stinging feeling behind his eyes, the burning sensation. He won't cry. Its not that bad. He can't cry. Even if it felt like his chest was collapsing in on itself. Even if it felt like the world was caving around him. Even if he was spiraling so hard he didn't know if he'd be able to come back from it this time. He wouldn't cry. Because men don't cry, and he had to be a man. Be a man for Annabeth, for Estelle, for his mom, for camp. They needed him. They needed the strong powerful Perseus Jackson. Slayer of Medusa, the boy who defeated Kronos at fifteen. The boy who killed- 

Oh, who was he kidding? He was a lot of things, but "a man" was not one of them, because if he was Gaea wouldn't have risen. Charlie and Silena wouldn't be six feet under. Luke and Ethan would've been _heroes_ to camp. Not monsters. He thought of all the kids who would still be alive if he hadn't failed at being a hero. If he had had the guts to be fearless. Maybe if he was a man, Calypso wouldn't have had to wait so many years. And maybe Leo wouldn't have died and had to be brought back while fighting Gaea. Maybe his mom wouldn't have to have been abused by Gabe for so many years. Imagine how much wrong could have been avoided if Percy just _didn't exist._

A smack against his window had him letting out a shrill noise he didn't know he was capable of making. A hand darting to his nightstand to grab Riptide. The darkness of the night made his whole body tremble, legs jerking awkwardly at how bad he shook. Every bone in his body told him to run, to grab Estelle and for the love of Poseidon, run till his legs gave out. Run to camp, anywhere but here. Percy couldn't do that, though. His breath was caught in his throat, body completely paralyzed. His voice barely working. 

"Mom..." The teen warrior managed to croak out. He could barely raise his voice above a whisper, but this fear was paralyzing. He managed to move enough to look down his bedroom, a looming shadow at the foot of his bed. That sent a chill running down his spine. At this point, he never knew if those shadows were his imagination or real beasts waiting to attack. He couldn't breathe, he couldn't move. The familiar heat of a few tears ran down his cheeks as he was sent spiraling into a pure state of panic. Nothing could pull him out of this now. God, curse his habit of kicking off the blankets. Maybe if he had on a blanket he'd feel safer, like a little kid hiding under the covers when they think a monster is under their bed. But, this could be a genuine beast. 

Percy jerked more violently than he'd care to admit when he heard a rustling. What was that? _What was that? **What was that?**_

"Momma..." He called again, knowing Sally couldn't hear him, but praying she would. He didn't know how long he'd last, those intrusive thoughts filling his mind so fast he couldn't make them out. Help, please someone help him. He just wanted to sleep. God, was he gonna have to start leaving his lamp on like some sort of five-year-old (no offense, Estelle)? 

He felt twelve years old again, sitting in the back of his ex-stepfather's care as they drove speedily down the road to escape the Minotaur. The image of his mother turning to dust at the camp gates haunted his every moment. Sometimes he still heard her screams in the dead of night, the grief of loosing her coming back to him when his mind raced like it was now. 

The speed of his heart beat was picking up rapidly, so fast he couldn't breathe. Can't breathe. Suffocating in his safe space, just like he was drowning in that mud pit just a few months ago. Funny, how the boy who can breathe underwater is afraid of drowning, isn't it? The cruel irony of the world, it seemed to hate him like that. Possibly, that hate was just Zeus screwing him over, but it still sucked ass when he thought about it. 

A sound left him that he didn't know he was capable of, this pitiful whimper. He wasn't sure if these noises he was hearing was his own hiccupping sobs and ragged breathes as he was absolutely overrun with this horrendous late-night attack. Not like he hadn't had one before, though. These had become so common he's come to _expect_ them when he slept alone. He usually didn't have these when him and Annabeth fell asleep cuddled in his cabin, or when Nico sought comfort in him (Before he got with Will, of course.), sometimes, even the occasional sleepy snuggles with his little sister when she opted for his hold over her father's. 

Heh, Annabeth. She had always handled this trauma so much better than him. He could always go to her when he was having an episode like this, she'd know just how to soothe his anxiety and calm him back down. He began thinking of all those gentle moments with her, like their underwater kiss, he'll never live that one down. Their first date (don't tell his mom he calls it that though) that got cancelled because of that Kelli monster cheerleader back in ninth grade. But, like every spiral he has, these calming thoughts shifted just as quickly to the dark moments. Like, when they earned these matching gray streaks in their hair. Those grueling, torturous days in Tartarus when all they had was their hold on each other. Where was Annabeth? Was she safe? Oh, god, what if she was in the same spot he is right now? Worse, what if she was in danger? Percy wouldn't be able live with himself if-

"Percy?" Percy would like to tell you he didn't jolt so violently he thought he'd fall out of bed from that noise, but that'd be a blatant lie. His breathing picked up in rapid pace, reaching hyperventilation. He _knew_ that was Sally who just called him, there was no way he could mistake his own mother's voice. But, he still got absolutely _terrified,_ no, beyond terrified. A feeling an eighteen-year-old shouldn't know as well as he does. His eyes shifted across the room to her, Percy knew the only emotion he was conveying was sheer panic. The tears came faster. No calming him down quickly now, no slipping back into sleep before sunrise. 

Their eyes met, and Percy could see the pity in his mother's eyes, the longing that she wouldn't have to walk in on her boy like that at such early hours. How long had he been laying here? 

Percy wished he hadn't been hit with another wave of panic when Sally began walking toward him. The teen wished he could say that gesture calmed him, but it did the exact opposite. "Can you move, honey?" The gentleness in her tone should've had some sort of pleasant effect on him, but it _didn't._ And, Percy thinks that's what scared him the most. He hoped his lack of response let her know how bad this one was. It was, Percy knew by the understanding nod she gave him as she sat on the edge of his bed. Her soft hand resting in his hair made him flinch, just as violent as the last one. 

"Ssh, you're okay, Percy. I've got you. Nothing's gonna hurt you." She promised, combing her fingers across his scalp. That gesture helped soothe him a little. 

Percy didn't fight back when she pulled him to sit up and lean in her arms, letting Sally wrap around his torso and continue that easing motion of fingers combing his hair. He probably couldn't of stopped her if wanted if he wanted, but, he really didn't. She began to hum a song she had started singing to him as soon as she discovered it. _Safe & Sound. _It worked every time, strangely. He knew it shouldn't be as effective as it was, but it was. Before he even realized, he was breathing normally again, not quite relaxed, but getting there. At least, he was until Paul had to speak. Snap him out of the calming daze Sally had brought him into. 

"Another attack, Percy?" It caused every bone he had to tense, arms slamming Sally into him and hiding his face in the fabric of her robe. His breath picked back up, the panic resurfacing, bubbling back to the surface. His mom was faster to react than nay, however. 

"Ssh, you're okay, it's okay. Just Paul, Percy. Just Paul, no danger. Breathe, Guppy. Can you breathe for me?" Her soothing voice helped settle him back down, even getting what could barley be called a half smile out of him from his old nickname. 

Percy gave a small nod in the crook of her neck, trying to breathe in as steady as he could. 1... 2... 3... 

"Good, breathe out," She did it with him, to emphasis the strength of it maybe. But, he listened. Sending that same deep breathe back out in 1... 2... 3, "Wonderful, one more time, Percy." He knew she meant, "Repeat it until your calm again," but, he went along with it. 

The long process lasted at least twenty minutes, but it worked. His wonder woman mom had once again pulled him out of his head. Percy honestly wondered how she had explained these intense attacks to Paul, most likely said it was because her ex-husband abused him. Which, was true. But not so severely to cause this kind of damage. Compared to the stuff Percy had seen in the past two years alone? Gabe was a cake walk! 

Percy squinted when Paul shut on the lights, it flooding him and threatening to overwhelm him again, but he was okay. He's good. And, it was in this state of being "good" that he realized the shadow he spotted earlier was simply his letter-man jacket hanging on his closet door. He laughed at himself for that, laying his head on his mom's shoulder as the simply _not funny_ mistake brought a hearty laugh out of him.

"What's got you cracking up, Guppy?" Sally giggled, resting her hands just below his shoulder blades. 

"I- I thought-" he was interrupted by a hiccup, "I thought my jacket was him." Paul probably thought "him" was Smelly Gabe, but Sally knew that "him" referred to really any monster Percy had ever faced in the light of his battles. After another minute of calm touch with his mother, he sat up. Looking over at the door, he saw his stepfather holding his baby sitter on his hip. He could always count on her to come cuddle with him after these kinds of things. 

"Bubby had another nightmare?" She asked, sleepy wiping her eye and yawning, jumping to the floor to get to Percy. 

"Y-yeah, Bubby had another nightmare, Starfish." He smiled at her, pulling her up to sit in his lap. He sat back against his headboard, cradling his baby sister like she was made of porcelain. Estelle giggled when he pressed a couple kisses to the top of her head, offering Percy her favorite stuffed animal. She carried that old thing everywhere. It was like her Riptide. 

Percy looked up from his little sister (who was quickly falling back asleep, mind you) when his mom laid a hand on his knee. Their eyes met once more and Sally gave him that motherly smile, "I'll go get you your meds. You forgot to take them yesterday, didn't you?" he didn't answer that question. Which got him a warning, "Percy." He sighed, laying his head back on the headboard. 

"It's not like they help..." He mumbled, looking dejectedly at his trusty weapon still sitting on his nightstand, slightly rolled off from where he had grabbed it earlier in the evening. 

"They may not stop the attacks, but they help you not be paralyzed in your bed and crying at four in the morning." She replied, standing up quickly and going to fetch him one of the anxiety soothers his therapist recommended he start taking. 

And now he's alone with Paul. Fantastic. 

Don't get Percy wrong, he loved Paul. The man was great for his mom. But, he didn't like being in a room alone with Paul. It always got tense and awkward way too fast for Percy to feel comfortable. Especially after he's waken him up having a paralyzing late night panic attack for the third time this week. And it was only Thursday. Paul was the last person Percy wanted to speak to in that moment. Who he did want to talk to was Annabeth, call her up. Make sure she's doing alright. He missed her dearly. 

Percy nearly flinched when Paul pulled out his desk chair. The noise of the chair legs gritting across the ground hurting his still sensitive ears. The stepfather sat down, silence looming in the air. Tension palpable between the two, "Percy, can I ask you something?" Oh no... Oh dear. What was he gonna ask about? The 'Love Wins' sticker on his binder (He has it for Nico, he swears)? The clearly not abuse scars littering his whole body? What?

"Yeah, what is it?" He spotted Sally reentering his bedroom, pills in one hand and water in the other. 

"Your PTS isn't just from Gabe, is it?" He should've known he was gonna ask that. Paul wasn't stupid enough to not notice something awry with Percy's behavior. The blue-eyed boy bit his lip, looking at his mother for approval to finally tell Paul about him. About what he is, his father. She sat down at the foot of his bed, laying a hand on his ankle and setting the medication on his bedside table. With that gentle nod, he let out a breath. 

"No, it's not." it felt so good to end that lie he'd been carrying, a weight off his shoulders. 

"Then... Then what is it from?" You could hear the concern in his voice. The question of what this poor kid had gone through. 

"It's a really long story, but... Ever hear of the Greek gods, Blofis?" 


End file.
